An undercover agent with the department of injustice (outside church walls)

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

let me reemphasize...

In a report stated here over a year ago, Hispanic kid’s birthday parties rock.

I wouldn’t miss them for the world. I plan my whole life around them.

Last Saturday was another classic example. Our neighbors across the street (and next door to Obi-Wan) are the Valdezes. Juan Valdez’s sister Miriam and her husband Scott live out in the country past the airport. They threw a party for their baby girl who turned one.

She’s ONE, mind you. So...sounds like a good excuse to rent a jumpy castle for the kids, beat a piñata, fire up the space shuttle booster-sized grill, and drink a lot of beer.

I love it man. The beer never ends. Usually it’s Bud Light, Tecate, and Corona. But since Scott is a white guy who married into a Hispanic family, there was also Guinness. It’s fun to have a mix of white-boy beer and Mexican beer in the cooler.

The food is not worthy of my poorly constructed words of praise. Besides all the great meats (which are a given) my favorite are these jalepeno’s stuffed with cream cheese and wrapped with bacon. These are placed vertical in some metal device and set on the grill. They’re soooooo good.

I stuff half of one in my mouth. It tastes great for about two seconds. Then the fire begins. Then I wonder “why the hell was I eating one in the first place?” Then I remember, “oh yeah, it’s good. Gimme another”.

Sometimes I pay for it for the next few days.

Meanwhile, kids are screaming and going nuts. They're jumping in the castle until someone gets killed. Then they beat the hell out of a piñata and anyone that’s in the piñata path.

This was kind of a landmark party for me. Usually, having conversations with the various relatives is awkward for me because, inevitably, the subject of “work” comes up. Not wanting to expose my agent agenda or my weird unemployment status, I would usually say either 1) I do odd jobs, 2) I'm a musician or 3) I work undercover and I can't talk about it.

This time around, I’m a “tree pruner”. Walla, I fit right in since everyone else is some kind of day laborer. For the first time in about three years worth of Valdez family parties, I actually got in some deep conversations with various guys.

6 comments:

first the last thing you said. so true. jesus was a carpenter (maybe a mason i dono). other holy dudes were fishermen. only one was a desk jocky and no one liked him anyway...

second, the beer. in california you get that weird mix of pacifico and guiness. love it.

third, the hot food. again, i am a wash in mexican food here as well. i have never been constipated since moving out here.

which reminds me of college. we used to go for hot wings on sunday nights. i used to plan my class schedule around when the wings would talk back. it was about 100 steps up to the hill and by then i had to duck in to the first building at the top to, uh, catch up on some reading.

oh, and did they have horchata? i love that stuff, what ever it is. makes the hot stuff go down better. and come out better for that matter. no burning exit if you know what i mean.

case profile #000728b

As an undercover operative for the CEO of the universe, I am strategically embedded within the poverty culture of Abilene, TX (the fair mother city). This blog contains my reports, discoveries, observations, and confessions. My identity must remain concealed due to passages in The Book under Matt. 6:1-4. The names on this blog have been changed to protect the guilty.